Where the Bones Lie
by sexypancake
Summary: [ZukoSokka, serious AU] Two weeks after Sokka turned seventeen, he woke up one morning to find himself possessed by a ghost. Of course, being the oblivious boy he was, he didn’t notice the other body sleeping in bed behind him, just barely floating above


**Where the Bones Lie**

**By Sexy Pancake**

ooooooooooo

**Warnings: AU, Slash (Zuko/Sokka), Major OOC, confusion… please enjoy!!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, but I do own the plot to this story.**

ooooooooooo

Two weeks after Sokka turned seventeen, he woke up one bright and sunny Monday morning to find himself possessed by a ghost. Of course, being the type of oblivious, seventeen year old boy he was, he didn't notice the other body sleeping in bed behind him, just barely floating above the lumpy white mattress. When Sokka got up, he fell out of bed, smacked his arm on his desk lamp, stubbed his toe on his mini fridge, and eventually stumbled into his small bathroom where, with only one bleary eye half-open, he proceeded about his daily washroom habits. A blind hand fumbled with the light switch as the other one brushed his teeth, and the other one combed thin fingers through his hair as the fourth one opened his cabinet door…

Time seemed to stand still for a second as a chill went up Sokka's spine. His eyes shot open, then clenched shut as the lights seared his pupils, and then opened again as the hand sifting through his hair settled over his eyelids, enclosing them in soft, comforting darkness. He sucked in a gasp, feeling something press into his back, before realizing that he had a mouth full of toothpaste and curled over the sink to cough violently. Eyes watering, he quickly turned around and stared at nothing for a full minute, before mutely wiping his hand across his mouth, smearing a thin line of toothpaste across his cheek. Sokka rubbed his other fist into his left eye and slumped back into the counter.

"It was just my imagination…" He sighed, "I've got to get more sleep." He swiped his fist across his mouth once again. This forced him to take a close look at his wrist where seventeen tiny lines, neat and very red, sat quietly on his arm. He sighed and pinched between his eyes, walking back into his dimly lit bedroom. The scars were taking longer to heal that usual. He crossed the threshold onto his carpet, only taking four steps before he noticed something off….a body-shaped lump lounging under his covers.

"The hell…?" Sokka started, before his mind halted. And then he suddenly couldn't help the quivering breath that exploded from his lips. Even in the pre-dawn light he could see the steamy cloud his breath made. His feet felt rooted to the floor where he stood. Tremors were running up and down his arms and his eyes dilated as the lump began to move.

He fell onto his rear and back-peddled to the wall. Someone had come into his room! The lump sat up straight, and, as if watching Sokka, was still. The boy couldn't move, frozen by a strange and intense fear, wanting to run and yet unable take his eyes of his bed. Suddenly, the lump lunged forward off the mattress in a massive wave of sheets and pillows. Sokka's shriek caught in his throat and he threw up his arms and clenched his eyes shut.

A loud thump, then all was silent. He wasn't dead yet? Well…darn. Sokka opened his eyes and stared blankly at the shimmering figure of a young man lying limply on his carpet, arms stretched out in front of him, and a large red bump forming on his forehead.

Sokka promptly keeled over in a faint.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

The second time Sokka woke up that bright and sunny Monday morning wasn't any more of less exciting than the first. He stared at the ceiling and realized he was lying on the floor. A slight ache in his back alerted him that he may have been lying there for a while. Seconds after that thought, a slanted pair of yellow eyes and messy black hair obstructed his vision.

"Ack!" Sokka shouted, sitting up fast and attempting to fight off his attracter. Oddly enough, where his punches should have made contact with a body…they only met air.

"What the hell?" The other yelled back at him, and Sokka paused.

One of the other's hands was cradling his head while its twin was wrapped around his chest as if to protect against Sokka's attacks. The figure scooted back across the carpet on his butt until his back hit Sokka's bed and gave the shocked teenager a very _disappointed in you_ look. He huffed, "What kind of reaction is that? You look like you've never seen a ghost before," He ran a hand through his shiny black hair and gave his head a flaunty toss. "You ought to be honored that I came. You aren't exactly a morning person, you know?"

Sokka stared, and for what was actually the second time, noticed that there was something particularly off about this oddball intruder. Slender and dark and kind of bratty looking, this trespasser was slightly glowing in his midday-lit room. That, and he was now floating at least a foot off the ground... a ghost? Could he…was that what was happening? Sokka almost had to resist the urge faint again as the tremors in his arms started once more and his breath came out foggy. However, another thought, one more relevant and necessary to the situation at hand came to his mind.

"…did you…hit your head?" He stared as the ghost's eyes widened for a few seconds more before the scenes from earlier that morning clicked. Then he threw back his head and laughed, "You did! When you jumped off my bed earlier you hit you head!" Sokka laughed more even as the other male across the room bristled, "What kind of clumsy ghost are you?" This had to be dream. None of this could be real. And if it was, then this scene really shouldn't have called for laughter at all, but as it was, Sokka couldn't seem to do anything else. He threw back his head again, and as it should have happened the first time, accidentally conked himself on the wall. Now it was the ghost's turn to fall onto his side in giddy laughter, tears streaming down his face.

"Moron," The ghost gasped out, composing himself and floating over to Sokka. The mentioned teen straightened in shock and attempted to back away again, but the wall prevented such. The ghost's mirth melted away and he tilted his head to the side. "What is you name?"

"S-Sokka," He whispered, feeling his clenching muscles relax a little. This was…real? He sagged slightly, eyeing the ghost warily. Perhaps this ghost wasn't here to hurt him.

"Duh," The ghost muttered, and Sokka tensed again.

"Y-you! You can read my mind?" He wheezed, and the ghost gave a little exasperated sigh, settling next to Sokka and resting his dark head on his shoulder.

"Only when you think too loud. Now hush, it took me forever and a day to get here," The ghost closed his eyes and made as if to drift off to sleep. Sokka left eye twitched.

"Hey! Stop that!" He yelled hotly, feeling his cheeks burn a little. He moved to the side, wondering how the ghost could lean on him in the first place, and rolled his eyes when the ghost flopped over on the floor. He moaned a little and looked up at Sokka.

"You're so cruel. I shouldn't have even come," He sat up. "You're such a hopeless person. You really don't deserve someone like me in the first place," He huffed prettily and stared at Sokka. This…was too weird. Sokka stared back, and an unofficial staring contest commenced, neither of the two morons willing to let the other win.

"Who _are_ you and what _are_ you doing here?" Sokka asked after a moment of agitated staring. "I didn't even know ghosts were real? I mean, I'm almost half sure that I'm still dreaming –ow!" Sokka cried out as the ghost smacked his arm and grinned. Sokka moved to retaliate but ended up once more crashing _through_ the ghost as he punched. He scowled as the ghost sat _on_ his back, absentmindedly checking his nails in his snotty but cute little way. Eventually, he started to speak.

"I'm here because God sent me. He told me to come. Isn't that good enough for you?" He leaned over and looked at Sokka's irritated face. "Humph. I guess not." And with that, he slid off Sokka's back and lay down beside him. "I was sent here because apparently you _need_ me." He grinned cheekily and then rested his head in his folded arms. "I guess that means you're in my dept, eh? But it's okay," he yawned, "I'm a nice ghost." His eyes closed, and without further ado, he fell asleep.

Sokka didn't move for a moment. This was a ghost? He didn't want a ghost! And anyway, he had always thought they would be…well, scarier. But this little twit was like a girl! He was thin and mousy and totally….uh, well…he was a ghost! Sokka sat up and looked down at the dark boy next to him. What would others say? He certainly couldn't tell them about this! But could they see him too? What was he going to do about –

"School!" Sokka cried out, or as he would later correct, yelled very manly-like. He jumped to his feet and scuttled around his room, grabbing his books and backpack. The digital clock on his dresser said it was almost eleven, which meant he could still make it for fourth period if he ran, and no one ran faster than a panicked junior in high school currently possessed by a –

"Oh," He stopped and looked down at the ghost still lying on the floor. The slender ghost had fallen asleep after all. What the heck…? This definitely wasn't what Sokka considered to be normal ghost behavior. Obviously this one broke the mold. Geez, what a moring. As if his life didn't suck enough already. Maybe he could pretend that this morning had never happened. Yes, that could work. Ghosts…hah!

And on that note, he threw open his bedroom window and jumped to the ground below from his second story apartment.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sokka didn't actually manage to make it to his fourth period class, but he was happy as it was to settle in for lunch and continue on with the rest of his day as if nothing unusual had happened that morning. In fact, it was already forgotten; totally out of his mind and never coming back! Or at least, he hoped.

The weird, yet not so surprising, thing about be possessed by a ghost, Sokka learned, was that _he_ was the only one who could in fact _see_ the darn thing! And regardless of the fact that he'd left the ghost on his carpet, dead to the world, a full hour ago back in his room, it had still managed to find him again about halfway through English class.

Sokka slumped over his desk. The tempting idea of banging his head on the synthetic wood until he woke up from this whacked-out dream was quite appealing. But then, who would watch over the ghost? What if he did something…err…like it was doing now?

Sokka sighed and smacked his forehead as the blond dimwit floated around the teacher's head, not touching him, but certainly invading his space. The elderly man shot Sokka an ugly look, but didn't drift from his lecture. The teen could only hold his breath and hope that the ghost didn't actually _try_ anything. Somehow, he just knew that the blame could probably be traced back to him anyway. Teachers always loved to blame him. He wasn't a bad kid, honestly. He just didn't like to pay attention sometimes…and yah, there was that one time when he'd glued the teacher's stapler to his desk. That had his genius craftsmanship written all over it. But that one time when all of the science lab's frogs had been released in the girl's locker room wasn't him! Honestly, why could these stuck-ups believe him?

And besides, he lived alone. What other warning sign was there for an adult to keep one eye on you at all times? His parents…well… they hadn't been the best folks on the block, but they were kind and kept a roof over his head. They'd kept him in school, too. Regardless of the questionable things they did and the shady people they met, Sokka didn't want to leave them. He didn't know _what_ exactly it was they did, but they were his parents and–

"_Stop!_" He screamed, and the whole class turned to look at him. The teacher, whose name Mana couldn't remember at that moment for the life of him, was staring back at him with thinly veiled disgust in his eyes. The ghost was looking back at him too, eyes wide and his hand caught just coming out of one of the teacher's coat pockets. A sparkling set of keys and some shiny coins were visible for just a second, before he shrugged and dropped them back in the hole.

"Sokka," The teacher's voice was quiet, as if speaking to a slow child, "Is there a problem here?" And his ugly nose reddened.

Sokka felt his own cheeks burn for the second time that day and he shook his bent head, wishing above all things that the stupid ghost would stop messing around and –_get over here!_

Class went back to normal as the teacher decided to ignore the bothered boy for the rest of the period. Some of his neighboring classmates were giving him strange looks, but then they always were. Thought they may pretend, no one _really_ liked the odd quiet kid who yelled out odd things during class.

"_Sokka?"_ A soft voice whispered in his head, and he slowly raised his eyes to stare directly into piercing sky blue. The ghost was sitting on the floor beside him, his head resting gently in his arms on Sokka's desk. "_Are you okay?_" He looked apologetic as he reached out a pale white finger to touch Sokka's cheek. The teen didn't jerk back.

"I don't understand you." Sokka whispered back out loud. "What the hell were you doing?" He didn't know if he could talk in his head yet. The ghost tilted his black head in a familiar fashion.

"_They were a shiny,_" He held up a tiny golden penny that he'd swiped and Sokka laughed lightly, resigned. For the first time that day, he realized just how young the ghost looked. He really was like a child stuck in a young adult's body.

He sat back and suddenly thought, "_What's your name anyway? You haven't told me yet._" He wouldn't ask how old he was. Considering how prissy the ghost was, there was actually a chance that Sokka could get slapped.

A few tense seconds later, the ghost sighed and dropped his gaze. "_I don't remember._" The sounds of the teacher writing quotes on the whiteboard faded away as Sokka was suddenly enraptured by the countenance of this demure little creature. He looked back up at Sokka with his large shimmering eyes full of sadness and asked in a tiny voice, "_Will you give me a name?_"

Neither of them spoke for two full minutes, and if anyone near Sokka had looked over, they may have wondered why he was staring so intently at the pink hair-tie of the girl in front of him. Finally, he said with resounding finality, "_Zuko._" He smiled at the ghost. "_After the great Fire King of myths, who sacrificed himself to save his people. Alright?_" The ghost, newly named Zuko, smiled back at him.

"_Yes, that's fine._" And Zuko laid his head back in his arms and fell asleep on Sokka's desk. The rest of class went quietly after that.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Zuko didn't cause anymore mayhem for Sokka throughout the day. In the following periods, he would sit beside Sokka on the floor, idly staring out the window and even going so far as to phase through it occasionally, venturing outside into the sun. More often then naught, though, he would just lay his head down and sleep. It made sense, as there was nothing for a bored ghost to do in a dull econ class aside from pestering teachers and students, but Zuko knew that Sokka no longer wanted him to do that. So bored and quiet he remained, occasionally pinching Sokka in the arm or poking his shoe with his own booted foot, until the final bell rang and the two of them walked back to Sokka's home together.

And so an odd little routine began. Day after day, Zuko would stay with Sokka in his apartment at night, and come morning, would accompany him to school. It wasn't an easy thing to do for Sokka, used to living alone and entirely unsure of the etiquettes necessary for living with another person who just so happened to be dead, but was still very much alive enough to throw books at his head or attempt to smother him with his sheets. But it wasn't a bad way to live at all, he realized. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier. He couldn't remember a time when he'd had a friend.

Three months went by since Zuko the ghost mysteriously entered Sokka's life, and saw him the healthiest he'd been in years. Although it was winter and the heat in his apartment was little, the color in his cheeks was pink and merry and very much alive. Snow had begun to fall in great heaps outside and Sokka was eager to see it cover everything in a great blanket of ivory white.

Zuko on the other hand, had gone quiet and withdrawn. It was a slow progression, at first. As the season grew colder, his glowing skin would turn paler and the healthy ebony sheen of his hair would dull. Furthermore, he was sleeping too much. Sokka had no idea what was happening to his friend, and when he asked, would be reprimanded harshly and told to mind him own business. But they had been living together for so long, and it was times like these worried him the most: times when he realized that he really didn't know that much Zuko. Aside from what the ghost told him, his past was a mystery. Eventually, however, the frail ghost would apologize to Sokka and smile like sunshine and dewdrops, eager once again to laugh and cheer and play in the white winter wonderland.

But still, as it grew colder, Sokka noticed Zuko was beginning to fade.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Mommy, look! A snowman!" A little girl's voice cried out, and Sokka looked up from his tall frosty creation to see the family in the apartment below his strolling down the sidewalk near their complex. The family, whose name he'd never learned, had been living underneath him much longer than he had above them. They were kind, friendly folks without a bad word to their names, though he'd heard some of the other nosey neighbors whisper behind their crippled hands that they'd lost a child a few years back, so he never spoke with them. For some reason, it made him uncomfortable. And until this moment, he hadn't thought of it since. As they drew closer, however, the mother, father, and little girl, all bundled up nice and warm in their thick coats, made Sokka shiver and feel very conscious of his own thin sweater. He didn't have enough money to buy a decent coat. He smiled slightly at the giggly little girl as she bounded by, their second child, and noticed that they were all wearing black. He shrugged, knowing it wasn't any of his business, and turned back to Zuko who was floating above the ground several feet away. He noticed, oddly, that the dark haired male was still staring after the family.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked, and then raised a eyebrow as Zuko literally jerked back to attention, a familiar bratty scowl on his face as he glared at Sokka.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He harrumphed, settling onto the snow and walking past a startled Sokka and down the sidewalk.

"Hey-hey!" Sokka yelled, "Where are you going all of a sudden?" Zuko kept going. "I don't know why, but you sure have been acting really strange lately." He walked quickly after the ghost who was already a dozen feet away, then frowned as the brunette began to walk even faster. He ran up and grabbed Zuko's arm.

"Zuko stop! What's wrong with you?" He asked desperately. The ghost harrumphed a second time and easily phased his arm out of Sokka's grip. He started walking down the frozen sidewalk again and Sokka let him go. After about twenty feet he asked again, weakly, "Zuko?"

The pale boy walked a few more steps, then stopped with his back still to Sokka. A cold breeze swept across the two boys and Sokka gasped loudly as Zuko seemed to fade out briefly, enough that he could see through him, then flesh back in like normal. Zuko turned to look at the teenager behind him, and even across the distance, Sokka could see tears in his eyes.

"There's something I need to tell you," He whispered brokenly. And Sokka rushed to him as his knees buckled.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

They were standing in a small field now, secluded by a tight circle of trees, at least a two mile's walk from town through the blistering cold, covered by an eternal blanket of white, smothering like a tomb.

"I told you once," Zuko's hollow voice began, "that God sent me to you because you needed me," He stared into Sokka's eyes. "And you did. You needed a friend." His hands touched Sokka's upper arms lightly. "You were so lonely," He whispered, eyes falling shut. A moment passed and he opened them again and turned away. "I was lonely too, once. But then, there were so many more times when I wasn't lonely. I had a family you know?" Zuko turned back to Sokka. "Did I ever tell you how I died?"

Sokka stared at him and shook his head in a silent 'no.' Zuko began to walk across the snowy field. "I didn't tell you, but God sent me because I needed you too." He sighed quietly before collapsing onto his back in the snow. Sokka started, but Zuko merely stared up at the grey sky with hooded eyes.

"Are you going to sleep here too?" Sokka asked quietly, afraid to break the heavy silence. It was starting to snow, and though a ghost, Zuko's prone form was starting to collect a gleaming cover of sparkles.

"Maybe," Zuko replied and stared at his right hand. "It's happened before. I died in the snow."

At that, Sokka choked and fell to his knees, shaking Zuko's shoulder and trying to make him meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" He whispered fiercely. "What the hell is going on? Are you saying you fell asleep in the snow and died? That's how you died?!" He yelled the last part. Tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't wipe them away. "Zuko!" He begged loudly, shaking the slender man's shoulder roughly. "Why are you telling me this?!"

A cold breeze blew past them again and Sokka's face scrunched in panic as Zuko faded in and out again. A white hand reached up and touched his temple. Sokka hadn't even realized the other had moved, but grabbed it nonetheless and pressed it fully to his cheek, tensing at how inhumanly frigid it was.

"Sokka," Zuko breathed, as if barely conscious between the realms of sleep and awake. "I need you do me a favor when I go," Sokka's face crumbled and he curled over Zuko's body. A sob rocked his frame and he nodded his head 'yes.' Somehow, he knew what was happening. Still…

"I don't want you to go," He cried, but Zuko spoke on as if he hadn't heard him.

"Twelve months ago, one year to this date," He breathed deeply, "a boy died in this field." Sokka watched his eyes flutter drearily. "He had a family…who loved him," More breathing and frozen wind, "But… they couldn't find… his body, even now." His hand in Sokka's suddenly clenched tight as his face fell lax. "Even now…Sokka…She's grown so big…you saw her…so beautiful." A tear slid down Zuko's white cheek and fell into the snow.

Sokka's eyes widened. "You don't mean?" He croaked, "The girl? That _family_?!"

"_Yes_…" His reply came out slowly, and the wind settled ominously as the last snowflake dropped. "I love you…Sokka…goodbye…"

There was silence, and then nothing happened for a long time. For a long time after those words, spoken in the silence of death, Sokka sat unmoving, curled over the spot where Zuko had laid. Life, at that moment, seemed so hopeless and pointless if his only friend was gone. What was he going to do now? There was no one else! No one else loved him like Zuko did! How was he supposed to go on living? Did Zuko honestly expect him to _tell that family…?!_

He jerked back on his heels and looked at the sky with wide, wild eyes. "GOD!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, and then tilted onto his side, suddenly exhausted. At that point he realized that he'd probably been out in the snow now for more than three hours. He cried weakly for a few minutes more, before lifting himself on wobbly arms and peeked at where Zuko had just been.

Like he suspected, and yet still surprising enough to make him gasp painfully, was the pile of dirty white bones neatly lines up in the snow. Neatly, like the thin lines he used to carve into his wrists before Zuko flopped into his life. The skeleton of a young boy…how could he have not seen it earlier? How could this be what was happening…how could he do these things?

"Zuko," He spoke to the nothingness, "You must trust me a hell of a lot," Sokka sighed, and then with a wry, half-smile, he looked back up at the sky. It was starting snow again and the sun was sinking lower over the tops of the trees. The tears were still slowly steaming down his face, somewhat frozen by the wind, but with a defeated laugh, he flopped onto his back. "I could follow you, yah know?" Sokka whispered, eyes closed. "I could follow you, and then neither of us would be lonely ever again," he smirked. "Even our bones could keep each other company."

But then an image, warm and glowing and golden, formed inside Sokka's head, just behind his eyelids, comforting and soft. He smiled, as if that comforting glow had been there all along. "But that's not right. I know this now." Sokka paused. "I'll return you to them, my friend." He sat up and turned towards Zuko's bones. "I'll return you to your family."

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Four months after Sokka turned seventeen, he'd done more things worth living for than he'd accomplished in the whole first sixteen years of his life. And soon, winter break would end and he'd have to convince himself that yes, he does have to go back to school, and no, Zuko isn't coming back. He'd made sure of that, once, and for all.

How he'd made it back to town alive that day all those weeks ago was a mystery to Sokka even now. He'd seen on the news later that week that the snowstorm he'd walked through was one of the most abnormal blizzards they'd had in the last five years, and that anyone caught walking through it was lucky to be alive. Either that, or they had a pile of bones to return to a family well overdo for some closure.

And that's what he did; as simple as that…or maybe not. 'Cause if he'd shown up at their doorstep with an arm full of bones, that'd be weird, even for him. And yah…they'd probably call the cops too. So instead, that's what _he_ decided to do. An anonymous call from a payphone across town would inform the local police that the bones of what appeared to be a young boy had been found. They'll be waiting in a box on the side of the road at such and such address. Please, get them back to his family. Please, they must be hurting so much. Please, his name was Zuko, as far as I know. Please…he was my best and only friend.

And so that night, when Sokka lay down in his bed, he found that at first he couldn't fall asleep. Usually, Zuko would sleep beside him. And even though he didn't produce any warmth, the slight glow he gave off comforted Sokka through many cold and dark nights. But now, he was gone.

So there he sat, alone and shivering in the darkness of his room. No Zuko in sight as far as he could see. Just the shadows ready to swallow him whole. That, and an image, warm and glowing and golden, just behind his eyelids, comforting and soft, as if it had been there all along. And suddenly, he could sleep. Zuko may have been gone, but he wasn't forgotten. That, Sokka decided, was what allowed him to close his eyes in peace that night. Until the day came when he met death's door, Zuko would just have to wait for him in the next life. Until then, Sokka slept.

The End

oooooooooooo

If you've actually made it to the end of this story, then I'd like to both thank and congratulate you! Obviously, this story is extremely OOC and has nothing to do with the Avatar universe. Zuko doesn't even have his scar in this fic (though that isn't mentioned).

Anyhow, this story wasn't written with Zuko and Sokka in mind, so any confusion can be blamed on that. Oh! And if you accidentally caught the names Mana or Ginger in this story, Sokka is Mana and Zuko is Ginger. Oh, and Ginger used to be a blond.

But in more important news, can anyone here simply FEEL the Zutara that is going to absolutely EXPLODE on Friday!!!??? Omg….the rest of the world is gonna die. Anyway, to any of you who don't know what I'm talking about, go check out a preview for Friday's episodes. Supposidly everyone thinks Katara is gonna heal Zuko's scar…but you know what, I thought of that idea MONTHS ago. So HAHA! Yah…the idea's sitting somewhere in a long lost Zuko/Sokka fic that never left the ground. Oh well.

Oh! And to anyone who read my fic "when the fairest one falls", I'm SOOOO sorry I forgot Toph. Reading everyone's reviews just made me keep spacking my forehead in an eternal D'OH!! But to be honest, as great as Toph is, if she left permanently, I could easily forget her. I mean, she's a kick ass character, but I wrote that fic on the mind frame that the final group that went against the fire lord would consist of aang, katara, Sokka, and zuko….bleh. oh well. Tuff duck.

Yah…so thanks for reading this horridly long A/N.

Whattaya guys think is gonna happen on Friday?? Will katara be able to heal zuko's scar??!?!?

R/R (please . )

Sexy Pancake


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